


A Tale of Lions and Wolves

by Nindemon



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avvar, Avvar Cullen, Avvar Culture and Customs, Avvar Inquisitor, Desperation, F/M, Fluff, Love, Sexual Tension, Smut, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 13:01:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10617435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nindemon/pseuds/Nindemon
Summary: Ceara of the Black-Wolf Clan, is the last descendant of the famous shapeshifters out of the Alamarri legends. Her people are threatened by the ever growing Clan of the Black-Crow, and seeing no other choice, the leader of her Clan, Thane Kegan Wolffang, sends word to the Red-Lion’s Keep far in the north of the Frostback Mountains, hoping that an alliance with the famous Lion Warriors will help to turn the tide and save his Clan from extinction....Complete Avvar Au, with original plot. Why? Because I can :)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I am very excited to hear what you think of this tale. I wanted to write it for ages and finally pulled myself together and set to work on it.
> 
> This is an original plotline set somewhere in the Dragon Age Universe. Known Characters will appear of course, like Cullen and Alistair and Hawke and some others, as well as Cullen’s siblings. Otherwise this story will have its very own events and stories as well as Avvar laws and legends that are not necessarily in the lore. Because? Why not! I can do it, you can read it and we can all enjoy this tale :)
> 
> So please let me know what you think of it and if I should continue on with this little idea of mine.

The wind rustled through the leaves of the great oak trees and the air was filled with the calling of birds and occasionally the chattering of a squirrel when the two large wolves trotted by one of their trees.  

 

Ceara and her older brother Phelan loved to shift into their wolf forms and roam through the lush forest near the southern reaches of the Frostback Mountains. Hunting for prey to feed the clan or, like today, just enjoying each others company and the feeling of freedom and sense of connection this form brought.

 

Once the Clan of the Black-Wolf had been feared among the Avvar for their shapeshifting abilities at the time when the ancient elven people had ruled the land, but this time was long gone as where the elven of old. Over the centuries less and less members of her clan had been born with the ability to shift into the great and fearsome wolves that had once struck fear into the hearts of many Avvar warriors on the battlefield.

 

Today there was only her family and a handful of warriors that had inherited the legacy. Moreover in the past few years their numbers had been dwindling further as less and less children were born and the continuing blood feud with the clan of the Black-Crow hadn’t helped to strengthen their numbers again.

 

Although Ceara was no stumbling pup anymore. Her father, had never allowed her or her sister Nessa to participate in the fighting that raged along their borders. Ceara didn’t understand his reasonings, they needed every warrior to fight, and she was as fierce and skilled as any of them.

 

In Nessa’s case however, it was clear why her father didn’t want it. Her lovely sister was far  too gentle and caring to be much of a warrior. Nessa was the beauty of their Clan and the pride of her father, with her long golden brown hair, much like Phelan’s, and the soft blue eyes of their mother.

 

When they were children, Ceara had envied her sister for her beauty and golden hair, her own was red, as red as the sun turned when it vanished behind the horizon after a long and beautiful summers day, and she had hated it for its unusual color.

 

And her eyes? Her eyes also didn’t have the lush blue color of a spring’s morning’s sky. They didn’t even resemble those of her brother and father, each of them shared the same shade of dark brown. Her eyes were almost yellow, like the corn her clan harvested in the secluded fields near the river.

 

Her father had told her that the gods had given her those eyes to mark her as someone special. She hadn’t believed it then and she wasn’t so sure if that had changed. Why would the gods take any interest in her?

 

The large wolf with its shaggy golden brown fur trotting beside her, stopped suddenly and thus pulled her out of her wandering thoughts. His eyes became alert and his pointed ears pricked up, twitching slightly as he lifted his long muzzle to sniff at the air.

 

Ceara sat down on her haunches, feeling the spongy moss beneath her paws that covered most of the ground between the trees in this part of the forest. She also lifted her head into the soft spring breeze that played with her dark reddish fur. There was an unfamiliar fragrance in the air. Her sensitive nose picked up the scent of horses and leather and… men?

 

They weren’t of the fox-clan this much was clear, and they thankfully didn’t belong to the crows either. She would recognise a stinking crow even without her wolf form, ten miles against the wind. These men were strangers.

 

She met the questioning eyes of her brother and nodded. Her ears twitching with curiosity as the two wolves leaped across the forest floor with silent paws that made no sound as they followed the faint traces of the men that had dared to enter their territory.

 

Ceara enjoyed running in her wolf form more than anything, feeling her long and lean body stretching and curling with every leap of her powerful haunches. She felt the play of her muscles beneath her thick fur as her paws barely touched the ground. It was effortlessly to run like this, she was even sure, if necessary, she could keep up this pace for hours maybe days without tiring herself too much.

 

The two wolves wove through the trees like silent shadows until they reached a muddy path. Phelan sniffed the ground around the mark of a horseshoe.

 

“How many do you think there are?” she asked in the tongue of the wolves, flicking her ears and curling her muzzle.

 

“Six at most.” Phelan answered with a swish of his shaggy tail. “I wonder who they are.”

 

“Let’s find out.” she grinned a wolfish grin and dashed off into the forest again.

 

It wasn’t long before they heard the soft whining of horses ahead. Ceara slowed down, treading carefully on the leave covered soil beneath the trees. Voices drifted over, catched by her sensitive ears, speaking in an unfamiliar tongue. It sounded rough but strangely melodic.

 

She crouched down on her belly and felt her brother do the same close beside her. He nipped on the short fur on her shoulder with its sharp fangs and she turned her head to look at him.

 

“They speak in the northern tongue of the Avvar.” he informed her with a flick of his ears.

 

Ceara frowned. What would a clan from the north want so far in the south? Although there were several other clan territories nearby like the foxes, the crows and the bears, they rarely encountered Avaar from the mountains.

 

With almost burning curiosity she crawled into a thicket near the clearing from which they heard, voices and laughter. She peeked carefully though the leaves of the thicket and made out makeshift tents covered with fur, leaning against the oak trees, lining the small meadow.

 

There was a fire place in the middle of the camp with a small fire burning, surrounded by stones and something that smelled like… Ceara lifted her muzzle to sniff. Rabbit. There was definitely a rabbit roasting over the fire, and her stomach growled at her.

 

Ceara realised that she hadn’t eaten anything yet. She and Phelan had been to eager to sneak out of the hold to think on such petty things like food, besides they could always catch something if they needed to.

 

She tried to ignore her protesting stomach and concentrated on the four men sitting around the fire. They were tall this much was clear as they lounged beside the fire, clad in furs of a strange dark color, it was almost black with a tinge of red, she was sure she hadn’t seen this colour anywhere before. No animal she knew of had this kind of fur, at least not those in the forest.

 

Their bodies, strong and muscular, showed more than anything that they were trained warriors, but she couldn’t see any signs of the blue war paint that would mark them as a raiding party, besides there numbers were to less. Maybe a hunting party? But why come down from the mountains just for the hunt? Didn’t they have there own hunting grounds up there?

 

“Cullen!” one of the men shouted looking to the edge of the clearing, waving a hand. The man shouted something in their strange rolling tongue and Ceara leaned forward to get a good look at the man that had just entered the clearing.

 

He was as tall as his men, clad in dark brown leather trousers that hugged his muscular legs. His chest and taut stomach was mostly bare, save for the fur lined vest that covered his shoulders and back. Ceara’s sharp eyes could even make out the rippling of his muscles under his skin as he moved with a grace that resembled a… wild cat? Her eyes roamed further up his body, his broad chest and strong neck and...

 

Her muzzle dropped slightly open as they fell upon his face.

 

He was handsome, no more than handsome, with his strong jaw and amber colored eyes. His golden hair, gleaming in the sunshine, reached almost down to his shoulders and was braided in several places to keep it out of his face, mostly.

 

Ceara felt a hand on her shoulder and nearly jumped back on her paws, suppressing a low growl, coming from inside her chest, at the disturbance.

 

When she turned her head to look at her brother she found him back in his human form, an eyebrow raised slightly at her uncharacteristic reaction.

 

“What?” she blinked and flicked her fluffy tail in annoyance.

 

“We should return and tell the Thane.” Phelan whispered. “And you should also turn back human, we aren’t allowed to be seen as wolves in front of strangers, you know the law. Only in battle and-.”

 

Ceara flattened her ears to the side of her head and dropped her eyelids “Seriously?”

 

“Don’t look at me like this.” he chided her with almost the same expression on his features as she held. “Just do as you're told, for once.”

 

She rolled her eyes in a very un-wolfish manner and shimmered slightly as her body returned into its original form.

 

Her sharp fangs dulled, her ears grew smaller and the fur vanished from her soft skin as the hair upon her head grew longer until it fell over her back in soft waves and returned to its usual brilliant red color, instead of the dusky red of her fur.

 

“Satisfied?” she asked in a low voice.

 

“And what do we have here?” an unfamiliar voice spoke up behind them and both of them turned in surprise as they heard the sound of steel against steel as a sword was unsheathed from its scabbard.  

 

Ceara felt someone grip her by the ankle, and she let out a startled yelp as she was pulled unceremoniously out of the thicket, while Phelan scrambled after her trying to catch her hand.

 

She half turned on her back and kicked at the man holding her. It was one of the Avvar warriors judging by his clothes, but she hadn’t seen him on the clearing.

 

He was as tall as the other men, his short cropped, sun colored hair fell into his eyes and he had an almost boyish grin on his face as he pointed the sharp tip of his longsword against Phelan’s throat.

 

Ceara went limp at the sight of it, pricking against her brother’s skin and the warrior let go of her ankle, clearly dismissing her as a threat… men.

 

She mentally reprimanded herself for being so careless. Phelan had pointed out there were six of them, but there had only been five on the clearing. This man must have been scouting the area while the others ate their meal.

 

“Cullen!” the young warrior shouted over to the camp. “We have visitors.”

 

The grin on his face widened as his gaze fell on her, roaming over her body with an appreciative look and finally meeting her eyes.

 

Ceara was glaring up at the man with her chin held up, although she was still leaning on her arms on the ground.

 

“You really want to see this one.” the man shouted again, his eyes never leaving hers.

 

There was an answering call in their strange language and the man’s eyes shot up and away from them for a second. And a second was all they needed.

 

Phelan kicked at the Avvar’s sword hand and rolled away the moment the tip of the sword lifted from his throat. In one smooth motion Phelan was back on his feet, while Ceara locked her long legs around the man’s ankle and tugged, rolling onto her stomach. The man, caught by surprise, stumbled and fell backwards with a startled yelp.

 

With one look at her brother Ceara almost flew to her feet and dashed of into the forest, while Phalen ran into the opposite direction. If the Avvar wanted to catch them, they had to split up, and if the two siblings got enough of a head start, they would turn back into their wolf form and thus, won’t be in danger of being captured by the foreign warriors.

….

 

Ceara ran as fast as she could, hearing the voices and laughter of the Avvars chasing her. She turned to look over her shoulder and counted three of them following her. One of them, to her secret delight, was the handsome warrior she’d seen on the clearing.

 

Try as she might, she couldn’t help the grin that formed on her face at the sight of him. There was no hostility in his features, just open curiosity and his answering smile put the boyish grin of the other Avvar to shame.

 

She almost stumbled over a large rock, but found her balance quickly and raced on, jumping over fallen tree trunks and weaving around the thick oaks, as sure footed as a deer. Even without her wolf form, she was a fast runner.

 

Her light and agile body effortlessly spun around low hanging tree limbs and her soft leather boots gave her the control she needed to keep her sure footing even while she ran over stones, rocks, fallen branches and slippery leaves.

 

Her heart was thumping against her ribs and her blood was filled with adrenalin _and_ joy. A delighted laughter left her lips as she heard one of the man stumbling over a tree trunk, cursing viciously in his foreign tongue.They _never_ catch her.

 

She turned sharply to her left and shot a quick glance over her shoulder. _Only two of them left._

 

She skidded to a halt and turned to face them, her chest heaving and pearls of sweat running down her spine. All thoughts of getting ahead as fast as possible, to turn wolf, had left her mind.

 

This was a game, and she was winning.

 

She ran a hand through her hair, feeling the little braids in between the lush waves, as she pulled it out of her face.

 

The men had slowed down as well, watching her intently, splitting to flank her. Leaving a wide opening for her to dash through, which she used immediately to her advantage.

 

Ceara raced past them, effortlessly dodging their arms and hands as they tried to get a hold of her. She heard one of them slip and crash to the ground and another bell like  laughter left her as she leaped over a fallen tree trunk.

 

She heard footsteps behind her and turned.

 

The only one left to chase her was the handsome warrior. Cullen his men had called him.

….

 

Cullen’s smile hadn’t vanished from his full lips and he didn’t look the least bit winded as he chased her further and further into the forest. She laughed again and turned suddenly to dash of into another direction. He wasn’t caught by surprise at this manouver and used this to gain some ground on her.

 

But when she next glanced back, he was... gone.

 

Ceara frowned and slowed, turning on her heels she walk backwards. Her eyes scanning the area behind her. A moment before, she had heard his heavy footsteps behind her. And now he was gone? Where did he go? Had he given up the chase?

 

She almost felt disappointed at the thought. She came to a stop leaning against a tree and sucking in air to fill her burning lungs.

 

Due to the throbbing of her heartbeat in her ears and the sound of her fast breathing she heard the footsteps coming from behind far too late. She barely managed to avoid him this time.

 

Dashing past him, she felt the tip of his fingers brush against the skin on her upper arm.

 

She’d become careless. Moreover she shouldn’t be here anymore. What was she doing? Playing run and catch with these Avvar?   

 

Lost in her thoughts, she stepped into piece of soft ground and felt something close around her ankle. The world spun before her eyes, as she was hauled up by the ankle, to dangle head down, six feet above the ground.

 

Ceara cursed viciously at her own stupidity as she heard laughter coming from behind the trees.

 

“Got you Squirrel.” The man, Cullen stated as he walked out behind a tree, a lopsided grin on his handsome face.

 

“Squirrel?” she huffed, clearly offended and straining to reach up and pull on the rope around her ankle. This was useless, she would need a knife to cut herself loose, but of course she had left it back at the Hold. This really wasn’t her day.

 

She gave up pulling at the ungiving rope and continued to dangle head down in the air, watching the Avaar approach her.

 

His gaze roamed over her form and she shivered at the heat that burned in the depths of his golden eyes when he regarded her very closely. No one had ever dared to look at her like this.

 

Cullen circled her several times and she had to crane her neck to keep him in sight.

 

He looked even better from this distance she noted, watching the smooth rippling of his muscles beneath his skin as he moved, no prowled around her. She could even smell him when he passed by her face. He smelled strongly of horse and leather and sweat, and something that was distinctly his own, male scent. It wasn’t unpleasant, no absolutely not.

 

Ceara inhaled deeply, the fragrances mingled inside her nostrils, painting a picture, a color in her mind, and she filed it away in her memory. She would recognise this scent, _his_ scent under thousands of others now.

 

His grin widened when he felt her gaze roaming over his body in the same way he had admired her before. He came to a stop right in front of her and reached out to pick up one of her brilliant red locks that cascaded down like a waterfall, due to the fact that she was still hanging head down from a rope.

 

Cullen twisted the strand of hair between his thumb and forefinger as if he wasn’t sure if the color was real. He murmured something under his breath in his own tongue which she didn’t understand.

 

“What?” she asked frowning and crossing her arms over her chest. How dare this barbarian touched her uninvited? Even if it was only her hair.

 

“Your hair is red.” he stated the obvious, and she had the distinct feeling this wasn’t what he had said before.

 

“No really?” she drew out the last word in mock surprise. “I hadn’t noticed.” she said flatly.

 

He chuckled, a low and pleasant sound rumbling inside his chest that send shivers down her spine.

 

“Who are you? What are you doing in my territory?” she demanded.

Ignoring the fact that she was still hanging head down and was in no position to make demands. But this was _her_ forest, _her_ territory and _her_ home.

 

“Catching a squirrel.” he smiled, still holding the strand of hair between his fingers as his eyes met hers and she forgot to breath for a second. The rich amber color of his eyes reminded her of the first harvest of sun warmed honey.

 

“I’m not a squirrel.” she growled, pulling her lips back over her teeth in a snarl and he chuckled again resuming his circling.

 

“We’ve been send by our Thane to meet with the leader of the Black-Wolf Clan.” he explained, pulling out a knife from his belt and fingering the sharp blade.

 

Ceara looked longingly at the knife, but kept her arms crossed over her chest, suppressing the urge to reach for it.

 

“Why?” she asked, following his every step with her eyes.

 

“Negotiations.” he said shortly, throwing the knife at something behind her back and she felt the rope loosen around her ankle as she plunged down head first with a startled cry. She felt herself being catched mid-air by a pair of very strong arms.

 

“You didn’t think I would let you fall on your pretty head.” Cullen smiled down at her and she scrambled to get out of his arms and away from the scalding heat radiating of his bare skin and that damnable, dazzling smile. But his arms only tightened around her, pressing her against his broad chest and holding her captive. By the mountain father, he was strong.

 

“Not so fast, my squirrel.” he laughed, a rumbling sound that reverberated from his chest and into her hand, that was pressed against his too hot skin.

 

His? Who did he think he was to call her his? She struggled again against his steely grip, and this time he grunted with the effort to keep her in his arms.

 

The world suddenly spun as she was hauled over one of his broad shoulders, while one iron arm wrapped around her legs, holding her firmly in place.

 

“How dare you!” she half shrieked. “Let go of me!”

 

He laughed again, starting to walk while she dangled over his shoulder, thrumming her fist against his lower back.

 

“No squirrel. I catched you fair and right, you belong to me now.”

 

“I what?” she shrieked again redoubling her efforts to free herself. “How dare you! I don’t belong to anyone, least of all to a brutish barbarian from the mountains.”

 

His answering chuckle was insulting to say the least. “Yes you are.” he stated matter of factly.”I have the rights given by the gods to claim you and make you my own.”

 

She knew that most of the Avaar clans, except for her own, stole their women from other clans as a ritual to honor the gods.

 

Ceara would have never dreamed, that one day some Avaar warrior would catch her to make her… what did he intend to do with her? He wouldn’t dare to…

 

Her eyes widened and she went limp, as the meaning of his words sank into her.

 

“That’s a good lass.” he murmured, rubbing soothing circles on her ass and she felt herself blushing furiously at so intimate a touch.

 

 _And_ because of the way her treacherous body reacted to his administration, waves of unfamiliar heat caused through her veins, making her gasp, her thighs press together and her stomach clenched in anticipation of what else he could do with this strong hands.

 

She felt him patting her rear with one of his huge hands, like someone would pet a horse or an obedient dog.

 

Ceara was neither. She was a wolf, wild and free, and she would not give herself over to a man simply because he managed to catch her hanging from a damn tree. The thought alone was infuriating and she felt her temper spark again.

 

A feral growl rumbled through her chest and she started to claw with her fingernails at the bare skin of his back, fletching her teeth.

 

A resounding smack echoed around the trees as his hand came down hard on the curve of her ass, and the birds fluttered out of the crowns of the great trees, startled by the ear-splitting shriek that followed.

 

“I do this again, if you don’t stop fighting me.” he warned, the warmth had left his tone, but despite his steely voice, he gently rubbed over the sore spot on her cheek, soothing away the sting his hand had left on her rear.

 

A loud howl split through the sudden silence of the forest, and Ceara stiffened, her hands braced against the muscles of Cullen’s back she pulled herself up wide enough to watch the surrounding trees, there was movement in the shadows.

 

Her brother had returned to look for her. At the same time Cullen stopped dead in his tracks, his body tensing, though his grip on her didn’t weaken.

 

“Put me down.” she said, her voice no longer furious.

 

As much as she wanted to be freed from this barbarian, curiously she didn’t want him to get hurt either. And she didn’t want her brother to break the law of the Clan. “I won’t run, I promise. Just put me down.” she added after a moment.

 

Cullen caught the urgency in her voice and he loosened his grip letting her slide down the hard planes of his body, causing all kinds of strange feelings to rush through her at the feel of it. His hands resting on either side of her hip didn’t help much either, and her breath hitched as she looked up into his golden eyes. He kept her pressed flush against him even after her feet touched the ground for a moment longer.

 

Cullen looked around, breaking the eye contact and searched the area stepping back but kept one hand firmly on the curve of her waist. “Don’t be scared, Squirrel. I’ll protect you, besides wolves don’t attack without their pack.”

 

Did he honestly think she was scared?

 

Ceara arched an eyebrow at him once his gaze returned to her, but didn’t bother to tell him that she wasn’t scared by the wolf. More by him, honestly, and not because he looked so fearsome with his broad shoulders and warriors build.

 

“Stop calling me Squirrel. I’m not a lousy Squirrel. I’m a-”

 

Voices drifted over to them and she turned to look at the five men that emerged out of the trees behind her.

 

“You catched her?” The man with the shaggy short crept hair who’d pulled her out of the thicket exclaimed, a wide grin on his youthful face. “I told you Cullen would catch the lass.”

 

The five warriors approached them all eyes resting on her and she pulled herself up to her full height, crossing her arms over his chest, she refused to be intimidated by their hungry gazes even after they had circled around her.

 

Despite her outer exterior, she was at least a little frightened by the sheer size of these fearsome warriors and unconsciously stepped back, closer to Cullen.

 

A large hand slid around her waist and came to rest, fingers splayed wide in a possessive gesture, across her stomach. She felt the heat of Cullen’s breath against her ear as he whispered. “Don’t worry lass, they won’t touch you.”

 

“I’m not worried.” she hissed back at him. “And you won’t either.”

 

She stepped away from him, or at least tried to as he pulled her back against him.

 

“Feisty one, isn’t she.” one of the warriors, with long black hair and a dark beard across his massive jaws stated.

 

“And a redhead too.” Another one spoke up beside the first, his hair was of a dark shade of brown and he had sparkling blue eyes. “Red-head’s are trouble, mark my words Cullen.” he advised with a shake of his head.

 

“I know.” Cullen chuckled. “She’s already put up a hell of fight.”

 

How dare these men talk about her like this. She was standing here! Right in front of them! And they treated her as if she wasn’t there at all, or even worse, as if she was nothing more than a... prize?

 

“What about the other one?” Cullen asked.

 

“He got away.” The young Avaar informed him. “We don’t know how, must have sprouted wings. He just vanished and we couldn’t pick up his trail once we lost sight of him.”

 

“Can’t be helped now.” Cullen shrugged. “Let’s break up the camp and continue on. We must be close to the Wolf-fang Hold. I want to arrive before dawn.”

 

Wolf-fang Hold? By all that had happened she’d completely forgotten that these Avvar were heading toward her home.

 

“Come, Squirrel.”

 

Ceara felt him push against her lower back to set her into motion as the men walked in the direction of their camp.

 

 _This_ was enough. She wouldn’t be treated like this any longer. And by the Lady she wouldn’t be dragged into the Hold, into her home, in front of her people like a… like a… whatever she was to him.

 

She rounded on him in a flash, poking her finger into the skin of his chest, seething with anger.

 

“You will not call me Squirrel! I am Ceara An Niam Black-Wolf!” she shot at him, and his eyes widened a fraction at the scalding heat in her tone. “You will treat me with the respect I deserve, as a fellow warrior of the Avvar!”

 

Cullen burst out laughing. “You, lass? A warrior?” He seized her by the upper arms and squeezed. “You could never swing a sword with those skinny arms of yours. And,” He bend and swung his arms around her, hauling her back over his shoulder in one swift motion.

 

“You are no match for a grown man, much less a trained warrior.” he concluded while following after his men, who were outright roaring with laughter at her declaration.

 

She bit her lip, bristling with rage and for one fleeting moment, she honestly considered turning into a wolf and show them what a real warrior of her clan looked like. That would stop their insulting laughter and jokes immediately for sure.

Ceara clenched her hands into fist, trembling with rage as angry tears shot into her eyes and she rapidly blinked them away. This was so humiliating, fuck this stupid law of her Clan.

 

She fixed her gaze on the red marks that crossed all over Cullen’s bare skin from her earlier attack. She’d do it again, but she didn’t want him to treat her like he had before, not in front of the other warriors.

 

Although she wanted to scream out her rage and frustration, Ceara stayed silent the rest of the way.

 

When they had reached the camp, Cullen set her down on top off a large boulder, at the edge of the clearing, while his man settled on the task to break up the camp and ready their horses.

 

He had also been quite while he carried her through the forest and now he looked at her with thoughtful amber eyes.

 

“Look Squi-... lass.” he said almost apologetically. “I didn’t mean to insult you. And I didn’t mean to be disrespectful either, but I won’t allow you to be disrespectful towards me as well. You are an Avvar and you know the law of the gods as well as I do. You know that I have every right to take you with me.”

 

She waited for him to say something else but he didn’t. She nodded, biting her lower lip and averting her gaze. “Why me?”

 

Ceara hadn’t meant to ask this question, had meant to scream at him again. That he wouldn’t take her away from her people, gods or no gods, her father would never allow this.

 

But instead all that came out was this simple question that she had pondered over and over in her mind while he had carried her back to the camp.

 

Ceara felt his fingertips trailing along her jaw and catching her by the chin, forcing her almost gently, to meet his eyes. “You’re beautiful, lass. Surely you know that. and...” he smiled his dazzling smile as his gaze fell upon her hair where it cascaded down her shoulders and over the tip of her breast.

 

She had the feeling that there was something else he didn’t tell her.

 

“Moreover, your Clan seeks an alliance with the Red-Lions, and what better way to secure such a bond than handing over one of their woman to the son of the Thane to take as his wife?” he asked, trailing his free hand over the skin on her arm, making goosebumps rise wherever his fingers touched.

 

Son of a Thane? Red-Lions? She’d heard that name before, her father had mentioned it to her and her siblings as he had told them stories of his adventures. She knew that he had spent some time in the Lion’s keep far in the north, when he was a young warrior.

 

Wait a moment, had he just said wife?

 

“Wife?” she spoke the word, unable to stop it from spilling out.

 

“Of course.” he said, then he sighed deeply and shook his head and she became even more confused when he stepped back from her retreating both of his hands.

 

“But I won’t force you. Although it is my right, I am not that kind of man. I apologize for my behavior earlier. It was in the heat of the chase that I lost myself in the idea of… nevermind.” he shook his head again making his long blond hair fall into his eyes at the motion.

 

Had he just dumped her? All this talk about belonging to him and now he let her go? Just like that? Men!

 

Ceara jumped of the boulder to stand before him and her eyes shot up to meet his as she hissed at him unable to put her anger into words. Though she didn’t even know what she was angry about. This was what she had wanted, to be free again, and leave this… this… grrr.  

 

She pushed past him without another word, fed up with these... Lions!

 

Cullen catched her hand before she got out of reach and pulled her back.

 

“I said, I won’t force myself on you. I said nothing of letting you leave now.” His face was so close to hers that his lips almost hover over her own and she shivered involuntarily at this.

 

“You’re coming with us, back to your Hold. I won’t let you wander around unprotected in the forest for another warrior to catch.” he stated, his eyes roaming over her face and his gaze dropped to her mouth when she suddenly licked her lips.

 

Ceara stepped back, not trusting herself to stay this close to him.

 

“Cullen.” someone called, but she didn’t turn away from him to look who it was and he didn’t let go of her wrist.

 

“We are ready to leave. Will the lass ride with you?” the young warrior appeared beside them.

 

Cullen nodded and turned away from her.

 

“I won’t ride on a horse.” she said challengingly.

 

In truth she’d never mounted a horse before, what for? Her clan didn’t need horses in the depth of the forest and she definitely didn’t need one to roam across the land. Besides horses and wolves didn’t go along so well.

 

“If you want to walk all the way, suit yourself.” Cullen answered with a shrug, taking the reins for his mount, a beautiful white mare, from the other warrior.

The horse shied away from her when it caught her scent and Cullen frowned, patting the neck of his mare and whispering soothingly in his own tongue.

 

He was right, since he wouldn’t let her out of his sight she couldn't turn wolf, and it was a long way through the forest to get to the Hold.

 

Ceara sighed resigned and stepped forward. The mare stepped back from her instantly, her eyes rolling in its sockets and she snickered.

 

“I don’t think I have a choice. That horse won’t let me ride on its back.” she informed the two man standing beside the horse and turned to walk ahead.

 

“Oh she will.” Cullen said grabbing her around the waist and lifting her up and into the fur clad saddle without much effort.

 

The horse clearly wasn’t amused to have someone smelling distinctly of wolf sitting across his back and bucked suddenly. Ceara had to grip the pommel of the saddle to keep herself from falling.

 

This was a stupid idea. She’d already started to scramble down of this vicious beast when Cullen swung himself up into the saddle behind her and pulled her back into the cradle of his lap. He pulled on the reins and dug his heels into his mount’s sides.The nervous horse shot forward and Ceara’s grip tighten on the pommel as she struggled to keep her balance.

 

Luckily Cullen had wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her from falling face down into the muddy earth. Unlike her, his body moved in unison with those of the horse and she heard _and_ felt him chuckle at her struggling.

 

“Relax, lass. Have you never ridden a horse before?” he asked in obvious surprise at her lack of skill in riding.

 

Ceara felt his lips brushing her ear as he whispered into its shell. She shook her head, not trusting her voice, feeling his hot breath on her suddenly, too sensitive skin.

 

“You’re too stiff.” he explained letting go off the reins, which made her stiffen even further Didn’t he need them to control this beast?

 

His free hand trailed along her thigh and came to a rest on one side of her hips. Ceara felt him smile against her ear when a shiver ran down her spine at his touch. Damnable worrier! Damnable beast of burden! Damnable… _ooh._

 

Ceara felt Cullen’s fingers flexing at her hip, guiding her to move with him and the mare in a kind of circling motion.

 

Heat sparked to live in her at the feel of his rolling hips against her rear, of his hard stomach and chest pressed against her back, of his hot breath against her neck.

She felt his lips ghosting over her skin right below her ear and totally forgot the horse and the men following behind them.

 

Something strange was happening to her and it felt… _oh_ so good. She felt his hand drop back onto her thigh squeezing slightly when he began to playfully nip on her neck and she arched her back in response to his teasing lips and teeth. She also felt something hard and long press against the upper curve of her ass just bellow her back.

 

“Korth’s teeth, lass.” he whispered into her ear, his voice was low, husky even, as he rolled his hips again in a completely _different_ way.

 

Ceara’s eyes shot open, she hadn’t even realised they’ve been closed.

 

She stiffened again, losing her balance and felt him chuckle as he pressed a last, scalding kiss to the nape of her neck, before he reached for the reins of his horse and slowed the mare to a trot by leaning back in the saddle.

 

Ceara was sure that she was _glowing_ bright red from head to toe in embarrassment. And it absolutely didn’t help that the other Avvar catched up to them, raining in their own horses beside them now.

 

She could feel their smirking glances on her and wanted nothing more than to bury her flaming red face in her hands and sink into the ground. No one had ever made her feel this and she had never lain with a man. She didn’t really know what to expect. Was this normal? No one had ever dared to touch her like Cullen before. They wouldn’t have dared even to attempt such a thing.

 

“You’re unbelievable.” Cullen whispered.

 

Ceara still felt the trail of fire his lips had left on her sensitive skin, they had been so soft and so unexpectedly gentle considering the way he behaved before. She was torn between jumping off the horse and racing into the forest or... leaning back against him and enjoy the warmth that radiated from his body.

 

Before she could decide what she wanted more, there was another long howl coming from the side of the path. And she made out the familiar flicker of golden brown fur beneath the trees.

 

The horses shied and bucked, rearing back and circling in obvious fright.

 

One of the warriors reached for its bow, strapped across his back and aimed at the large wolf that ran passed them inbetween the trees.

 

“No!” Ceara shrieked and lunged herself at the warrior with the bow, before Cullen was able to pull her back into the saddle. “Killing a wolf is forbidden in our territory!”

 

The warrior locked at her and then at Cullen waiting for his order.

 

“What if he attacks?” Cullen asked her, trying to calm down his mare.

 

“He won’t. Just let me talk to him.” she said already shifting her position to slide out of the crazed horse.

 

“Talk to a wolf? Cullen you found yourself a crazy one.” the warrior said.

 

“You can talk to wolves?” Cullen asked, holding her back. His tone was unsure, it was clear that he didn’t want to offend her, but it was also clear that he didn’t believe her.

 

“You know next to nothing of our Clan do you?” she hissed pulling free of his grasp and sliding to the ground.

 

“I won’t let you near that beast.” he exclaimed also sliding off his horse handing over the reins to the one with the bow.

 

“Who’s scared of wolves now?” she shot back at him, but he catched her around the wrist and yanked her back before she reached the line of trees.

 

There was an ominous low growl coming from the deep shadows of the forest and a pair of gleaming eyes watching them.

 

“Let go off me, Cullen.” she said in a tone that left no room for discussion. “Let go off me or he _will_ attack. And he _will_ kill you and most of your men before you can put him down, believe this, if you won’t believe anything else.”

 

She looked straight into Cullen’s eyes without blinking and he slowly released his steely grip on her wrist, eyes rapidly jumping between hers as if he was searching for the truth in her words, she instead read the worry and concern in his. Was he really worried about her safety? Why?

 

“He won’t hurt me. Trust me.” she said, reaching for his hand and squeezing it once before she turned and strode to the edge of the forest.

 

“Stay in plain sight, if it attacks…” he left the rest hanging.

 

Ceara glanced back once and saw that Cullen had motioned his man to stay down, his eyes never left her, though and his hand was gripping the hilt of his sword around his waist.

 

She turned, careful not to step out of sight she blinked into the shadows trying to make out the familiar form of her brother. She couldn’t see much except for slow movement and heard the soft patting of paws on leaves as her brother approached her.

 

Ceara held up a hand to stop him from stepping into the light, she didn’t want to give the Lions a better chance to see him.

 

“Don’t.” she hissed. “We are not to be seen like this! Stay in the shadow.”

 

She heard a low growl but the movement stopped as the large wolf sat back on his powerful haunches.

 

“I am alright. These men did not harm me, nor do they intend too. They are warriors from the Lion’s keep in the north and here on invitation of the Thane. Go back to the Hold and tell them. I’ll stay with them for the time being.”

 

She turned but heard another growl followed by a short yelp. “Don’t argue with me Phelan. Go! Now Phelan!”

 

A short grumbling came as answer, followed by the soft patting of huge paws that faded back into the forest.

 

She returned to the waiting Avvar. Noting their almost respectful glances at her.

 

“That was the largest wolf I’ve ever seen.” the youthful warrior with the short cropped hair breathed out in awe.

 

“He was in the shadows! How could you have seen him. I saw nothing.” the black bearded warrior exclaimed.

 

“Lucky you. I did. The sight of that beast will haunt me in my sleep.” the young man shuddered.

 

“They grow bigger here…much prey...” Ceara answered evasively before stepping before Cullen.

 

He had his arms crossed over his chest and looked at her with a complete unamused look.

 

“A wolf this size could have easily killed you with one snap of its massive jaws.” he said, almost angrily.

 

“And if he did, it would be none of your concern, wouldn’t it? This is _my_ home and _you_ are the stranger here. Besides I am not a pup anymore. I can very well look after myself. Thank you very much.”

 

With this said she turned on her heels and purposefully strode over to the young warrior still seated in the saddle of his brown stallion. She held out a hand for him to help her up, and he looked at her with a startled expression.

 

“Help me up.” she hissed. “I won’t ride with that stubborn mule anymore.”

 

His brown eyes flickered over to Cullen, before he grabbed her hand and helped her up into the saddle behind him. She wrapped her arms around his bare waist and he stiffened.

 

“I don’t think Cullen likes this very much.” he murmured back over his shoulder as he kicked his mount into motion. She looked back at Cullen who rode behind them and by the gods he was glaring daggers at the both of them. Was he jealous?

 

Ceara turned away quickly to hide her smile.

 

“I don’t care if he likes it or not. Things in my Clan are a bit different, he better get used to this now before he does something really stupid.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Stealing the daughter of the Thane, for example.”

 

“You are?” the warrior turned to look at her his warm brown eyes going wide.

 

“As I said. I am Ceara An Niam, daughter of Thane Kegan Wolffang, Leader of the Black-Wolves.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is, by far, the longest Chapter I've ever written. I hope you enjoyed reading.


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